


What Fades Away

by sniper_wolf



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Ending, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Hand Jobs, I'm Sorry, KOUJAKU MY LOVE, M/M, Prison, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, basically aoba saved koujaku but sly still won, creepy affection, i'm a piece of shit for writing this, koujaku is sad, mixed with the good ending, sort of, why do i love hurting him so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniper_wolf/pseuds/sniper_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koujaku could not recall how long he'd been in the dungeons. Time ceased to matter in the dark. Everything blended together into one nightmare, one scream, one piercing gaze. With some difficulty, he forced his eyes up to the white-haired demon who stood grinning outside of the bars. The demon who had the audacity to wear Aoba's body and use his name. For this beast was not the man he loved, not the man he had grown up with. </p><p>But it wore the same smile. </p><p>"Koujaku, my love."</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Fades Away

**Author's Note:**

> why did i write this why do i like pain
> 
> read it on tumblr [here](http://the-romulan.tumblr.com/tagged/koujaku%20my%20love)

"Koujaku."

The sound of rattling chains filled the depths of the dungeon as a man shifted. He wore no clothes, and reeked of human filth - the only defining marks on his body were intricate tattoos covering a majority of his skin. He raised his head as his name was called.

Koujaku could not recall how long he'd been in the dungeons. Time ceased to matter in the dark. Everything blended together into one nightmare, one scream, one piercing gaze. With some difficulty, he forced his eyes up to the white-haired demon who stood grinning outside of the bars. The demon who had the audacity to wear Aoba's body and use his name. Bile and anger rose in his throat, and he opened his mouth to scream at the beast -

"Koujaku," the demon cooed, and it was Aoba's voice. Aoba's gaze. For a brief moment, Aoba's smile. All words, all anger, died as quickly as it had arisen, and he slumped into his chains. 

"Aoba," he whispered, voice hoarse from constant yelling. 

The demon only chuckled. Koujaku was aware of the sound of the door unlocking, and the soft, ethereal footsteps that followed not-Aoba.

"Such a good boy." Another laugh, light and airy this time. "Look at me, Koujaku, my love."

How could he resist?

"Kiss me, Koujaku, my love."

How could he...? 

Aoba's lips were soft, just like he'd imagined all those years ago -

 _Not-Aoba._

He bit down on the lips as hard as he could, immediately tasting metallic blood pooling into his mouth. He could _feel_ the demon grinning.

"Oh, Koujaku. How I love this side of you. I truly wish Aoba would have let that demon of yours consume you - really, I prefer your anger to this submissiveness. Ah, don't make that face, love. I appreciate the loyalty. You'll be rewarded soon. A bath seems in order, hm?"

All Koujaku could manage was a whimper of consent. The demon laughed, then caressed Koujaku's face with surprising gentleness before stepping out of the dungeon cell. The feather-light footsteps echoed in his head, and Koujaku let a wail rip through his throat. 

Aoba. _Aoba._ Aoba was gone. Koujaku could swear he could see his childhood friend on occasion through the demonic features, but it wasn't often enough. Not nearly often enough. If only... He allowed himself to cry. He could picture it like yesterday - Aoba writhing in pain on the ground while Koujaku stood helpless, terrified. And the building had been collapsing around them and Koujaku had been so confused, and so scared, that he let...he let Aoba die. Aoba saved him only to lose to his _own_ demons. 

'It's not your fault.' Koujaku could almost hear Aoba's voice in the back of his mind, chiding him. But it did nothing to make him feel any less responsible. 

After the demon had taken over Aoba's body, Toue won. Midorijima collapsed, completely under the mad man's control. And not-Aoba helped. By destroying minds. Destroying minds in the same way he had saved Koujaku's. 

"Aoba," he whispered under his breath; tasting the name on his lips, yearning for it to one day bring the man out of the demon. He clung to that hope like a lifeline, gripping it with the same intensity as a man dangling over a cliff. If Koujaku let his mind wander to the all-to-real possibility that Aoba _was_ gone, for good, forever...he wouldn't be able to last another day in the prison cell. He attempted it before, what seemed a lifetime ago, early into the incarceration. He had wrapped the chains from his shackles around his neck and pulled, pulled until he passed out - but he woke up. Woke up to the demon in his cage, wearing an expression so full of concern and so _Aoba_ that Koujaku had cried out, clinging to the beast in desperation.

"I love you," he had whispered, staring into the golden eyes, daring to believe, to hope; that either he had died and gone to heaven or that Aoba had come back to him at last.

"I love you too," the demon had replied, kissing his eyes, his nose, his lips. "Don't ever leave me again."

Koujaku had promised he wouldn't. But a second later, when the demon stood, it wasn't Aoba's stance. Wasn't Aoba's voice, or eyes. Wasn't Aoba. A part of Koujaku had died that day, like he initially wanted, when he realized just who he had pledged himself to. 

Koujaku howled and thrashed against his bonds, letting the iron cut into his flesh, scarring his already flawed skin. He clung to the pain as much as he clung to the memory of Aoba. At least the pain was real - something concrete, something he could rely on, something he could distract himself with. He thrashed until his strength failed him. He let his mind give in to the void. There, at least, the demon couldn't hurt him with lies. There, at least, the darkness was comforting. He wished to stay.

He wasn't in his cell when he awoke. The first thing he noticed was the smell of _clean_ \- and bathwater surrounded him, and there were hands upon his back, hands that felt like Aoba - and it _smelled_ like Aoba. He whipped his head around instantly to find the white haired demon smiling at him, in an equal state of undress, washing the filth off his back in slow circles. 

"When will you learn?" it chuckled, not breaking the hand movement. "You can't choose what stays and what fades away. Aoba isn't coming back."

"...Stop lying."

The demon laughed again, its hands moving to Koujaku's chest; embracing it, humming into the skin on Koujaku's neck. "But it's alright. Aoba was weak. I am not. You have me now, Koujaku, my love. Don't you love me? I love you."

Koujaku stilled his tongue.

"So cruel," not-Aoba pouted. His rhythmic circles delved farther down his chest. He let go of the sponge and pulled Koujaku closer so he was flush against the demon's body, Aoba's body - _no._

He loathed the way he reacted to the demon's touch.

"Shhh. Don't cry, Koujaku, my love."

Tears began to flow down Koujaku's face. He hated, _hated_ the feel of not-Aoba's hand wrapped tightly around his cock, which was (against his will) already hard. He _hated_ the feel of the demon's breath upon his shoulder - and yet he leaned into it. He _moaned._ He _ached._ He craved this touch more than anything, but it wasn't from Aoba, it was a stranger's touch.

"Tell me you love me," it whispered, picking up the pace, touching him _exactly_ how he liked, torturing him in a way it probably didn't even realize.

"...I love you," he breathed, screwing his eyes shut and covering his mouth with his hand in an attempt to force the words back in.

"Say my name."

"Ah - nnn - Aoba -"

"That's not my name." The command was low, guttural. Koujaku choked back a sob.

"Please..."

The demon bucked against him with sudden force, and Koujaku's whimpers turned into a yell, then a gasp, then a moan as he felt the release against not-Aoba's hand. Body trembling, he lurched clumsily away. 

The demon sighed, a sound Koujaku had never heard from it before. 

"You're so fragile. Where did that fire go? Show me your monster, Koujaku, my love."

 _I'll never show you anything._ He didn't speak.

The demon huffed a sigh again, pushing a hand through the white hair and grabbing its white robe off of an adjacent chair. There came a knock at the door a moment later, like not-Aoba had been expecting it, and it opened the door. 

"Aoba." Toue stood in the doorway, holding his cane like always, a permanent smile seared into his features from all his years of lying. His eyes darted to the scene - a cowering, tear stained, naked Koujaku in the bathtub next to the nonplussed demon. He said nothing. Koujaku didn't meet his gaze. "...I need you to wipe patient's mind."

"...okay. Anyone of importance?"

"I believe you knew him before. He calls himself Noiz."

Koujaku's head shot up. Noiz...? The brat? "No!" He shouted involuntarily, jerking out of the tub and nearly falling over his weak limbs. Toue's lip curled in disgust, but not-Aoba only smiled.

"Stop clinging to the past, Koujaku, my love. Aoba's gone, and so are your friends."

They left. Koujaku's legs gave out, and he found himself sitting on the bathroom floor, tears running down his cheeks _again._ Not Noiz. He had never liked the kid but... _god_ , what about the others? The gas-masked kid? The leader of Scrap? _Beni-shigure?_ He forgot how to breathe for a moment - how had he forgotten about his family? About Beni? About Mizuki and Dry Juice? About everyone? Were they even alive...? Or had Aoba...?

'Aoba's gone, and so are your friends.' The words echoed in his head. They were...true. Koujaku was alone. Aoba wasn't coming back. There would be no miracle. Nothing...

That's all he was in the end. Nothing. Just that demon's toy. An empty husk. 

He didn't leave the bathroom. He didn't even stand. All motivation to even _breathe_ left him. He couldn't die, the demon would never allow it, but he could give up. Not-Aoba loved his anger, right? There wasn't enough energy left in him for anger. It was the only way of rebellion he could think of, for in a way, it was a victory, right? Giving up? Doing nothing? In a way, he would win. 

_Use me, then. Use me until I die. Maybe then I can see Aoba again._

**Author's Note:**

> KOUJAKU, MY LOVE


End file.
